


Ash

by LeannieBananie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet, Canonical Character Death, Dreams, F/M, Love, Melancholy, Memories, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 06:39:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11823276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeannieBananie/pseuds/LeannieBananie
Summary: "Unable to help himself he let his eyes slide shut, blocking out his cold empty room and stepping into a place equally frigid, but warmer for having her there."





	Ash

**Author's Note:**

> First ever ASoIaF work, because I love me some sad panda Jon Snow. I make no apologies.
> 
> Anyway, kudos and comments make the world go round, so leave 'em if you liked it! Also holler at me if you see any mistakes, because this was written in a big hurry.

He woke with a start and a choked cry, a familiar name, half swallowed and bitter on his tongue as he lurched upright disrupting the furs and exposing his sweat damp chest to the chill of the room. Even with the banked fire, the icy tendrils of winter slipped past the fur blocking the window, making his skin prickle and turn clammy. A quick glance at the window showed no light peeking through, it was early yet, before dawn, but he knew sleep wouldn’t come again for him. 

Not when red haunts his dreams. Wild and silky, tangled around his soul, tying him in knots even now. 

_Kissed by fire._

With a hoarse grunt, Jon yanked back the furs and hissed as the air assaults all of him, nearly stealing his breath from the abruptness of it. Ignoring the cold he pulls on plain clothes, just trousers and a rough spun shirt before wrapping his cloak around him and settling into the chair by the glowing embers. He can feel the melancholy clinging to him, the harsh remnants of his dreams linger in his mind, making him feel heavy and sad and alone. Unable to help himself he let his eyes slide shut, blocking out his cold empty room and stepping into a place equally frigid, but warmer for having her there. 

It was so easy, too easy to call her back to him, and it was bittersweet and fierce and a little distressing, but he did it anyway, letting his mind pull her forward piece, by piece. That unruly red hair teasing him from under her hood, a shock of color against the white, gray, brown of the true North. Blue-grey eyes that often as not flashed in irritation at him, but they could be warm too, needy and desperate, lover’s eyes. Her sharp stubborn chin and thin lips pulled into a frown. He also saw them grinning, a bright playful twist and felt them hot and soft against his own. If he focused he could still see her in that cave, all pale skin and lean muscled limbs, provoking and taunting and bold. He could still feel her too, hands clutching at his hair, as if to yank it out by the root as he knelt before her, loving her. Strong legs wrapped around his hips, crooked teeth biting, marking him as hers. And he knew he would see her face until the day _he_ died, sad and pained as she lay dying in his arms, would hear her whispered words, “We should’ve stayed in that cave.” 

A brusque knock and muffled, “Your Grace” roused him from his stupor and Jon pulled himself up, scrubbing a hand across his face to disguise any evidence of her that might be there. Stepping towards the door he paused when his eyes caught the faintest flicker of red, there then gone before he could react, save for a terrible rush of bitterness, sour in his mouth. 

_Kissed by fire, and both of us destined to be burned to ash by it._


End file.
